


Interesting Times

by Eternityscry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, One Piece, sabo - Fandom
Genre: Animal Instincts, Independent Harry Potter, Kind of badass Harry Potter, Kind of into it Marco Phoenix, M/M, Magic, Marco this is not how to get a date, Might be some bashing of HP characters, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Runes, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Takes no shit from anyone Harry Potter, Teacher Harry Potter, The Voice in your head is real and has opinions, World Hopping, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-10-23 12:32:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17683505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternityscry/pseuds/Eternityscry
Summary: It's amazing what you can find in a small bar on a no where island. Marco didn't find exactly what he was looking for, but that's the risk you run when you window shop.





	1. May You Live in Interesting Times

**Author's Note:**

> So I was sitting at work and thinking about a chapter for Spinning Wheels, This is the result. I have no clue where this is going to rates, tags and hell probably the summary will change as I flesh it out. As for grammar, I literally busted this out at work before lunch, will taking multiple phone calls and faxes. It's not pretty. SO if you see anything obvious that I missed, please let me know. Otherwise enjoy!

 A crash sounded outside and colorful sounding swearing drifted up after it. Familiar colorful sounding swearing. Harry heaved a sigh and rolled out of bed. ‘So much for a quiet day off.’ He paused, pushing his hands toward the ceiling and stretching till he felt something pop, before heading over to his closet. Better to go down and do damage control then leave them to sort it out themselves. Another crashed sounded and Harry shook his head, pulling a loose shirt on. Finger combing his hair and ignoring his shoes, he made his way out the door and down the steps. The cussing got louder as he got closer to the shop floor, but no one was in it when he rounded the last corner. Running a cursory glance over the shop, nothing broken that he could see, he barely paused as he made his way over to the partially open front door. ‘At least they remembered to take it outside.’ He pushed the door fully open and stepped out the see what foolishness his students had gotten into.

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------

Marco withheld a sigh, allowing his eyes to roll slightly heavenward. ‘So much for a quiet day in town.’ The day had started fine. Small groups from every unite had made their way over first, getting necessary supplies without scaring the town folk. Not every port town was equipped to handle a crew there size, nor where they all welcoming to pirates. Once the first groups had come back successful and with positive reports, shore leave was granted for those not on shift. They would stay docked off shore for a few days so everyone had a change for shore leave, then be back out to open see for another 3 to 4 months. Inventory had been completed and nothing on the ships need list was missing. Wages had been given and everyone knew to get anything personal first while that had the chance. Just because the plane was to stay a few days, didn’t mean that always happened. Such was the life of a Pirate ship on the sea. Shipmates mostly went out in groups or pairs, both to watch each other and to watch for any indication that they might have to leave early. No one wanted to be stuck on an island that was getting swarmed by Marines. Again.  

Commanders split on who was going to shore and who stayed on the ship, Marco was usually in the latter group, but he’d been hit with a craving for dried dates about a month ago and needed to restock. He probably could have asked Thatch, but it wasn’t really a ship need so he’d have to get them himself. It would give him a chance to look around and see if anything caught his eye too. He wasn’t much for shopping if there wasn’t a need, but he’d found a really nice pen on an island in the South Blues once and an amazing fruit stand on one in the east that had only sold fruit from that island. He still had a bit of dried fruit from that island now that he thought about it. But he didn’t have any dates, so he’d set out to the shore with Thatch, Izo and Ace. Ace was still fairly new to the Commander roll on the ship, but he seemed to settle even more with them when the responsibilities of a whole unite were pressed on him. Marco was keeping an eye on him, as he did all the new Commanders, but so far Ace only seemed to thrive under that pressure. They’d all wondered up and down the square right off the port, Izo looking for a fabric store, Thatch looking for a few interesting bits that he’d seen when he came to restock the ships logger, Ace looking for the best eat spots. Usually with so many Commanders in a small area, the day was calm. Unless a Marine thought he could get lucky, but Marco and Thatch where pretty well know faces as Whitebeard Pirates so even then that Marine either had to be drunk or stupid. But first wave reports had stated that no Marines were currently on or near this island. So this should have been a smooth, easy walk around town. But Ace still had a bad habit of dine-and-dash. Ace had money, he was a Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates and for all he eat, he rarely spent money foolishly. Part of that was probably because he mostly ate on the ship and didn’t feel the need to buy many things, but he’d also once lead a crew of his own successfully. Ace knew how to manage his money, so he didn’t need to do any dine-and-dashes. But sometimes it was like he couldn’t help himself, like scratching an itch it was something he had to do. And is a lot of port towns, he got away fine. Years of dine-and-dashing had made it almost too easy for him and when he couldn’t or didn’t get away fast enough that face that he was Fire Fist usually to care of anything that his happy go lucky face didn’t.  But apparently Ace had picked to one bar on this island that had a cook who gave two shits who or what Ace was. Joy.

Marco felt a headache forming; something that technically he couldn’t get due to his devil fruit, but that his siblings still managed to bring out from time to time. He did have to hand it to the cook, they may have been on an island in the New World but being about to use Haki was still something that not a lot of people who weren’t marines or Pirates did. Using it, he’d managed to get in a few good hits on Ace, who granted wasn’t fighting all out but it was still impressive. Picking up new recruits wasn’t really his thing, but maybe a cook that wasn’t afraid to land a hit on Ace would be useful on the ship. Casting a look at Thatch he was thinking the same thing. The boy, because he couldn’t be much older than 16 let out another colorful curse, that one had made Marco’s eyebrows rise, then jumped back to place some distance between them. He raised one hand, hissed something and where Ace had been standing previously was a long deep gash cut into the stone of the road and all the way up the side of the building he’d been in front of. Ace reformed just in front of Marco and, Marco paused and narrowed his eyes a little. Ace was bleeding. I was faint but just over the top of his arm, up toward his shoulder was a shallow gash. Something that Ace as a Logia fire user shouldn’t have, especially after reforming. Marco turned back to the cook, more cautious now, but also more interested. He’d never heard of a devil fruit that could do that. One’s that cut sure, but not ones that cut Logia users. He shifted slightly on his heels, still relaxed but ready to move if needed. The cook spit out another round of curses and raised his hand again. Marco tensed, then to door to the bar opened.

\-------

Harry barely paused to taken in the situation. 4 men on one side of the street, one bleeding, his stupid student on the other and a gash in the road that would make Mrs. Title furious. He sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face. “Tony,” he started. Tony cut him off with a flapped hand, pointing at the bleeding man. “He tried to run off without paying shinsho!” Tony was red in the face, not out of exertion but out of anger. His blue eyes stood out sharply against the red and his hair almost blended in due to the short cut. He gave a pause and considered Harry. “Soke! You were going to stay in bed today!” Very loud his student was. “Stay in bed with all this noise, Tony.” He cut the boy a look “You’re making enough noise to wake the dead.” He pushed the door open further and fully stepped out. “Ah!” Tony’s face lost the redness, shifting instead to contrite and apologetic. He bowed sharply, almost smacking his head on the ground. “I sincerely apologias for the disturbance, Soke!” Harry waved a hand. “Maa, its fine Tony. I’ve been up for a while.” He took a step down to the road and made his was between the two groups. “What’s all the noise for?” He ran another glance over the group before half turning back to Tony. Tony turned red again, shooting up from his bow. “He tried to run off!” He pointed at the man who was now poking at the faint wound on his arm. “He ate half the store, passed out in his food twice and then left without paying!” Harry was starting to see a little purple creep into the red on Tony’s neck. “As if I would let him disrespect your home and business in such a manner!” Harry took another look at the group. The only familiar one was the tall man with the pompadour, Harry was fairly sure he’d seen him on Cali Street yesterday, but the other’s he’d never seen. Travelers he decided, sailors most likely but not Marines. They all looked fairly laid back, even after one of them had been attacked in the street. “And your solution to that was to run out into the street, cause a scene, wound a customer and cause property damage?” He asked Tony, a little sardonically. Tony was not his first student, but he was his most devoted. Maybe a little to devoted. Harry for all his power and experience was a man, he’d been born a man, lived as a man and Death willing one day he’d die like one. But Tony had somehow got into his head that Harry was some kind of God amongst men. Taking every word a gospel and demanding respect for him that Harry didn’t need or want. Looking at him now you’d never believe that this was actually toned down from how he’d started out. At least he didn’t follow him around with a little notebook anymore. Harry turned away from Tony; who was now curled up; face first in a corner tracking circles in the dirt, to face the man Tony had been attacking. 

‘Man’ may have been what he called him but ‘boy’ might have been more appropriate. He barely looked older then Tony did, with freckles littering his cheeks and shoulders that made him look even younger. His black hair curled around his face and full lips made him look delicate in a way that was offset by the pure muscle that was the rest of his body. Fully on display do to his outfit consisting of boot, shorts and a hat only. The orange haired pompadour’d man was beside him now, watching a little awed as the boy continued to poke at his arm. He was dressed more like a chef in all white. Beside him was a man in full geisha make up, hair and all, wear a beautifully elaborate two layered kimono. He was still facing Harry and Tony, on hand hidden in a sleeve, but his eyes were also on the freckled boy. The only one not looking at him was the blond man at the back of the group. He was staring straight at Harry. Harry felt something shiver across his skin at the look. Not fear, but something. The look in the man’s eyes was intense in a way Harry hadn’t seen since he’d left his old world. He looked like some of the creatures that Harry had met and befriended in his travels. One’s that weren’t totally alone in their heads, the creature part of them being something in the back on their minds that nudged them one way or the other. He felt like he could just see whatever was in the blond man’s head with him. Both peering out at the world through one set of eyes. Harry idly wondered if they liked what they saw. The man himself didn’t look like he had any creature in him. Blond hair buzzed close to his scalp, except for the top which flopped over a little. Purple shirt opened to show a tattoo of some kind, blue pants and sandals. He looked, not common really, but unassuming, at least compared to the look in his eye.

Shaking himself, and ignoring the sound of Tony’s muttering, he took a step closer to the group. “May I?” He gestured to the boys arm. Kimono shifted slightly but no one else moved. “It’s the least I can do, considering my student caused the damage.” The boy shrugged and stuck his arm out. Harry took a few more steps closer and placed his hand on it. Distantly he noted that Kimono and Pompadour had both stiffened slightly when he touched the boy, but ignored it to focus on healing the cut. Wandless magic was something he’d learned before coming here, spending several years with a vampire coven had had many benefits apparently. Once he’d landed here it had taken some time to get use to the influx of energy around him, but after that it was as easy as breathing. There was so much wild magic here and no one really used it. Sure he’d met the occasional person who used a little, those who’d called it Haki, and technically devil fruit users turned themselves into a type of magical creature, but no one used it like his people did.  It took barely a thought for the blood that had spilt out to crawl back into the cut and for the skin to reform itself over it. Probably not the healing that had been taught in his world but for all the things he’d learned traveling, proper healing arts had never been one of them.

He released the boys arm and took a step back, turning to focus on the cut in the wall and the road. “Violence, young one.” He spoke softly, “is not always the answer to life’s problems.” Tony sunk more into his corner, little mushrooms growing around him now. He sighed at him, shaking his head once more. He made his way over to Tony’s ‘Shame Corner’ and brushed a hand over his head. “One day,” he muttered to the boy, “you’re going to pick a fight with someone you can’t beat.” Tony just hunkered down harder, silently radiating disbelief at his works. Harry knew the disbelief wasn’t due to his own fight ability’s, but rather the belief that the magic Harry had taught him was unbeatable. Which to be fair, in most causes it would be.

 Just because no one used the Magic around then didn’t mean they were unable. Everyone he’d met had fully developed cores, they just didn’t use them. So every student he’d taken on had no issue utilizing the skills he taught them, some had just done better in other fields. Tony had taken to battle magic like a duck to water and surprisingly to what were considered house hold charms as well. That’s one reason why Tony had stayed with Harry at his bar after his “training” was done. The other, bigger reason was Tony’s version of Loyalty which made Harry want to bet his head in. But he was a good boy and a good student. On Harry’s better days he was glad for the company that it brought him. On his worse he’d leave for the next island over and take it out on whatever wildlife hadn’t realized that he was the baddest thing in the jungle.

Harry rolled his eyes again and made his way back up the steps to the bar. “No use in crying over it, just do better next time.” He heard Tony pop up with an excited cry, starting to go on about ‘wise words of incredible wisdom’ as he shouldered the door open. Glancing back he caught another glance at the look in the blond man’s eye. Whatever creature he was, it was still staring at him. Harry held the gaze until the door swung back shut, wondering if that would lead to problems. Creatures reacted strangely to him, some unable to stand him at first, then coming around as friends. Others seemed almost obsessed with him. Those either lost the obsession on their own or came up missing after a while. This being the first creature he’d met here that acted like creatures from his world he wasn’t sure how it would play out. “May I live in interesting times, indeed. “  He mutters, lightly tossing and catching the fairly heavy coin purse he’d flinched from the boy as he’d healed him. Violence, after all, was not always the answer. Especially when sleight of hand would do.


	2. I Put a Spell on You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two in one day? Maybe I just need to start writing longer chapters?

Marco stared transfixed at the door, the ringing in his ears blocking out anything else. Never in his life had his phoenix side reacted like that to someone. It wasn’t a secret, but nor was it common knowledge, that everyone who ate a Zoan fruit got a little something more when they eat it. Another conscience nestled within them that helped them when they shifted. It wasn’t really talked about openly and the most he’d learned had all come from books, but almost every description was the same. A small feeling in the back of people’s minds that nudged them in the right direction. At least when it came to their shifts. Marco wasn’t sure if it was because he was a Mystical Zoan or if the books didn’t cover everything, because his ‘feeling’ never felt like a nudge. More like a separate personality, one he couldn’t always hear, but one that if he tried he could communicate with. He’s pretty sure some of that personality bled over into him too. He ate his fruit when he was young, so he doesn’t know if he’d turn out to be a blood thirsty as he is without it, but he’s pretty sure the urge to go for the soft spot on the back of his enemy’s neck was a byproduct of the fruit. As was his want to sleep in the crows next from time to time. But other than the usual, ‘these are my people, these are not my people, and these people are trying to hurt my people’, the phoenix had never really reacted to anyone. It reacted more to situations or sometimes even places. But never people. Not till that door opened.

Marco would admit that even without the phoenix slamming to the forefront of his mind he would have been interested. Messy, waist length black hair curled around a soft pale face partially covering green eyes. Some might have compared them to emeralds, but Marco thought they looked more like the Aura lights he’d seen in the South Blue. A constantly shifting streams of light that lite up the whole sky once every 50 years. The light he saw was different shades of green, shifting and flowing from one to another. Something he’d never seen before and hadn’t seen since, until those eyes glanced his way. They sat above a small nose and plump mouth, giving off a soft feminine look that wasn’t contested by the rest of the frame. An oversized, long sleeve shirt slipped off one shoulder, partially covering a pair of black leggings that ended just about delicate looking ankles and dainty bare feet. Everything about this person visually said soft and sweet. Everything but the look in his eyes and the feel of his Haki. Or rather the lack of feel of his Haki. Even if they didn’t know about it or know how to use it, every living thing had Haki. Everything and everyone felt a little off of each other, a little unique. You could read a lot from someone’s Haki. What they were feeling, their general temperament, if they were sick or not and even their gender. But the Man in front of them, and it was a man going by the adams apple and the lack of sway in his hips, had not feel at all. Like he had no Haki. Which given the state of his continued breathing and faint heart beat Marco picked up, shouldn’t be possible. Sure it was possible to dampen your Haki, feel like less then you where, but it never disappeared. An anomaly. Something that Marco didn’t run into these days.

So yes, Marco would have found him interesting even without the alarm clock in his head saying lookherewatchhimimportant but the fact that his phoenix was just as interested made this even more surprising. Macro barely noticed anything else around him, too intently focused on the man coming closer. He watched as he touched Ace’s still bleeding arm and seemingly reverse the injury. Blood dripped backward from the ground, flowed up the length of his arm and burrowed back under his skin. There was no flash of light, no sparkling, no hand gesture, and no command word. If Marco was across the street he probably wouldn’t even have noticed anything happening. The road being reversed was more noticeable if only because the gash was hard to mistake for anything else. Marco could feel the excitement in his phoenix grow with every move the man made, every step he took, and every casual show of power that he displayed. He had to take in a breath, aware he’d paused to long since his last and the scent that filled his nose made his control over the phoenix that much harder.

He never knew that power had a smell. Sure he’d met people who’d given off the feel of power, it was the reason he’d started to follow Pop’s before he knew him. But never had he smelled it rolling of someone before. It wound around his skull, caressed down his lungs and settled just above his groin. Marco shivered and the sound that almost slipped out would have given way to much insight to how close to the surface his Phoenix was. Cool, Calm and Collected. That was him and very much part of his personality, but it was a part that he’d molded out for himself. Something he made himself into many years ago when Pops had really started to pick up speed in getting his family together. It was as much a part of him as anything else by now, but at his core he’d always been something else. Too much Phoenix too early maybe, but at his core he’d always been just a cruel and savage as the paper and wanted posters claimed he was. Most of the original crew that had set out with him and Pop’s where gone. Either retired to one of their islands or buried at sea, so not a lot of people on the ship know or remember that Marco was one of the more feared Pirates on the seas for a reason. One that had nothing to do with who his captain was.

Marco exhaled slowly, trying to bring his calm back to the forefront. Anomaly or not, this was not the time or the place for anything that the phoenix would find expectable. Though it did give him a nice reason to return to the island alone. He and the Phoenix both watched as the man made his way back up the steps and through the door, shimmering green eye’s locked back with his and held, just as the door clicked shut. Yes a very nice reason to return and do a little personal scouting.


	3. Not All Who Wander are Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to god I have no clue what I'm doing

Harry ran the rag over the counter one more time, nodding slightly to himself in satisfaction. He glanced out over the interior of the bar, double checking that everything was as it should be. He had a few customers, mostly locals who know and liked the food. ‘Bar’ might have been a stretch, given the lunch and dinner menus, along with the coffee survived from open to close, but they weren’t really big enough to be classified as a restaurant and this world apparently had no concept of a café. A building to sit in and drink booze? Sure! One on almost every island and at least 2 in every Port. A building to sit in and enjoy a nice tea or strong coffee? Who had the time for that? Harry’d beat his head against the wall in frustration over that one, but in the end said fuck it and added a bar.

He glanced up at the ceiling, taking in the dark wood beams criss crossing under the roof, eyes landing on the extremely well hidden rune on the very top of the highest beam. The rune had been a twist on the usual muggle repellant ward. Now it was designed not to distract people, but attract them. Sure he had customers of all shapes, sizes and species, but the rune was to attract someone specific. Just because everyone had the core to learn Magic here, didn’t always mean they could, or that they wanted too. He’d found that if a person didn’t really believe they could, then no amount of his instruction would help them. The rune was designed to lead people with the ability to use magic as he did to him, so he could pass on the teachings he’d brought with him. After his travels, he’d debated on taking a teaching position somewhere, or maybe even creating his own school. Before that could happen he’d landed here instead. Once the realization came that while he couldn’t return, he could teach in this world still, he’d bought the building and made it his focal point. People from all sea’s had come to his bar, most solely for the food or drink he provided, but a special few came for the knowledge he could teach them.

Tony was his latest student, going on 3 years he was also his longest staying one. Most students who came found a nitch and once he’d taught them all he could in that subject, they left. Either to further study on their own or to find others like them. Tony had learned all he could about Battle Magic, now all he needed to do was work on things like casting speed and chain casting. Those where things that would come with time and he could do them anywhere, but he’d chosen to stay with Harry. Harry hadn’t cared when he’d asked and truly an extra set of hands did help. Just because this world was used to people with strange powers didn’t mean he wanted to attract anyone’s unnecessary attention. So unless he was alone or solely with his students he didn’t tend to use any outward magic. ‘Except for yesterday.’ He mused to himself. He’d stuck to repairing damage so hopefully the men who’d seen it would just think it was a devil fruit and move on. Usually when people saw him use magic, he took the memory from them, unwilling to take the risk of it being said to the wrong person at the wrong time. But he hadn’t yesterday.

The thought had plagued him all the rest of that day and into this morning. He’d never had any issue taking a memory before, having a Legilimency teacher who actually knew what the fuck she was doing did wonders for his lack of skill in the area. But yesterday the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind until he was preparing for the dinner rush. ‘That Man.’ The blond haired one who’d looked at him with two minds. Those eyes had stalked his mind all day and left him with a shakenly satisfying dream by night fall. Harry paused behind the counter, shifting slightly as arousal curled in his gut at the thought of last night’s dream. It had been a long time since he’d had a dream that satisfying, a good 40 years at least. During his time with that one redheaded clan in Asia, what where they called again?

Something tingled against the edge of his wards and Harrys eyes shot to the front door. Just in time to see a familiar head of blond hair step through it. A large smile broke out across Harry’s face at the sight.

“Sabo !”


	4. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to write a quick short to get me in the right mind set before moving to a new chapter for this and instead just went straight into this chapter. Go Figure. As always there are probably mistakes so if you see any let me know. I'm gonna try to do a read through on all the chapters this weekend and fix anything that I find. Enjoy!

Laughter echoed throughout the mostly empty bar as Sabo regaled them with some of his more sideways adventures. Sabo had relaxed into one of the bar stools, taking off his top hat and coat and rolling up his sleeves. The scars on his body were looking better than the last time he’d seen them letting Harry know that the changes he’d made to the salve Sabo used was having positive effects. He’d gotten a little taller and he’d finally filled out into his hands and shoulders. Looking more like a man now and less like a boy pretending to be one. Sabo had been his youngest student to date; coming into his bar a few days after Harry had placed the final rune stone around the island. ‘It’s you isn’t it.’ The tiny blond had stated, every big eyed, gaped tooth, shiny burned inch of him quivering in his doorway. “You’re why I’m here.” With his tiny student-to-be had come a large, dark haired man with the stupidest tattoo on his face, his Face! And it didn’t even do anything like a seal or rune imprint would.

Harry shook himself out of his musings as Tommy spat his drink out over whatever Sabo had just said to him. Judging by the steadily rising blush on his face and the way Sabo sat; elbows on the counter, body tilted forward invitingly and eyelids deliberately lowered, it was something sexual. He tossed his cleaning rag at Tommy’s head. “I just cleaned that.” Face still red, Tommy went to clean up his mess. Harry eyed Sabo, who’d settled back into his seat in satisfaction, flirtatious expression traded for a familiar smug satisfied one. “Still practicing?” Sabo flashed him a cheeky grin as he sang “Practice is never over.” Harry snorted as the phrase was tossed at him, recognizing it as one he’d used often on Sabo during training.

“That skill helpful on your runs?” Harry didn’t usually ask Sabo about his work. His health, his travels, his book? Sure, every time he saw the boy. But his work always brought up Dragon his farce of a secret army. Not really secret if everyone knows about it, is it. Harry fought the urge to spit as the thought of the man returned. When Sabo had been drawn to his bar all those years ago, he hadn’t come alone. Monkey D. Dragon had followed his charge across the chain of islands they’d stopped on before landing on his doorstep. And so the Man-Who-Concord and the Leader of the Revolution became aware of each other. It had gone about as well as a cat dropped in a bath tub. Harry understood and could respect what Dragon was trying to do with his network. This world’s government was just as bad as his own had been, they just hid it better.

But the fact that Sabo had already been working for this man when he’d showed up made Harry’s teeth itch. That work had been the only reason that Sabo had even made it to him. The pull had gotten so distracting to the boy that he’d made a mistake on a mission and gotten injured as a result. When Dragon had demanded to know the reason for the failure, Sabo had told him. And after a few more accidents, Dragon had relented and set out to sea. Dragon had spent the first week unbelieving of magic, the second and third, trying the preform it and the rest of their 12 week stay trying to convince Harry to join his merry band of idiots. Harry had spent those 12 weeks cramming everything he could about the basics into Sabo’s head, trying to teach Dragon, politely refusing his offers and setting him on fire anytime time the words “Revolution”, “Overthrow” or “Greater Good” came out of his mouth. At the end of those twelve weeks Harry had told Sabo to keep up his self-study and when he felt the pull to specialize they’d started in on that. Dragon had scoffed, stating that Sabo wouldn’t be returning for any more study as this wasn’t a skill he could teach any of the others and he “didn’t have time” to be running off to learn it. Harry had snarked back that _asemantic child soldiers must be had to come by if he wanted Sabo so close_ and Dragon had stomped off is a huff. Harry’d given Sabo a two way journal to keep in touch with and sent him on his way.

A year later Sabo had shown up and asked if he could help him find out his birth date. Mind Magic was dangerous to use on children, both because of their constantly changing brain chemistry and the threat of the child’s underage magic lashing out in protection, so he couldn’t help him get back any memories. But a lineage incantation would help him find any information. A little bit of blood into a potion that took three weeks to brew and a bit of casting over a piece of parchment and Sabo now knew; his place, date and time of birth, his blood type, his entire history of injury’s and that he was lactose intolerant. They’d celebrated his, very late, 13th birthday a week later and he’d been coming every year since. For his 14th he’d finally specialized, the only one of Harry’s students to gravitate toward rune work as their field of study. He’d spent the next four years pooping in and out of the bar for his studies. When Dragon had started to complain about Sabo wasting his time and tried to demand him to stop, Harry had shown him how to use runes to create an anchor point that he could use to move from one point to another instantaneously. Almost like a Portkey only not as nauseating and without the getting shoved through a tube feeling. That point rested in the center of what had become Sabo’s room over the years and he used it often. Though if he was out on assignment and it took him close to Harry, he’d drop in on foot like he’d done today.

Harry drifted back into the conversation Sabo was attempting to have with him just in time to hear, “-so, I think I’m ready now.” Harry felt one eyebrow raise and Sabo, thankfully, took the expression as one of disbelief instead of confusion. His eager expression turned sheepish and he hunched over and lifted an arm to scratch the back of his head. “I know I kind of freaked out at the suggestion on my 16th, but I feel,” He paused, sheepish expression fading as his eyes looked for something only he could see. “I don’t feel as afraid as I did before. I mean,” He straightened and looked Harry in the eye. “The idea of what I might remember still scars the shit out of me. But the idea of never knowing scares me more. I’m ready Soke.”

Memory retrieval. Sabo was talking about the option that Harry had brought up once to the boy on his 16th birthday and hadn’t brought up since. Magically inclined children had their cores settle on their 16th birthday. While they wouldn’t come into any inheritance, physical or otherwise, until they hit 20 once their cores settled it became safe for them to participate in more intrusive magic. Memory retrieval fell into the same category as Mind Magic so at 16 it was safe to try it. But Sabo had looked up the history on his birth place and knew about the fires that the nobles had set upon the homeless on the island. Given where he’d been born and to whom he’d know that he was a noble by birth and was terrified that he might have had a part in the fires that they’d set. In his panic at the idea of remembering and possible returning to that mindset, he’d lashed out. Harry had let him lick his wounds for about a month before sending him the next book in a series about various rune symbols and how to use them with a note telling him to have memorized at least half the runes in it by their next meeting. Harry hadn’t brought it up again and he’d thought the conversation about it over. Apparently Sabo had other plans.

Harry took a long moment to read the emotions flickering across the blonds face. “Okay.” His voice was a soft hush in the silence of the bar. “Okay Sabo, I can do that.” Sabo slumped, all tension draining at the words. “Do you have a few days? Memory Retrieval will take a while and you’ll spend a lot of time sleeping to re-assimilate them. I’d rather have you here where I could keep an eye on you.” Instead of at that base where those idiots might try to fuck with him. “Yeah.” Sabo had laid his forehead on top on his folder arms and his voice was muffled slightly into the wood countertop. “I took 2 weeks of leave after I last reported in.” Harry placed a hand on the blonds head and lightly ran his fingers through the strands. “Come on. The first part of this is just an incantation. While you sleep it off I’ll work on the potions needed for the second part.” He scooped up Sabo’s top hat and made his way up the stairs by the bar shelves. Sabo followed him silently, jacket in hand.

* * *

He signed as he leaned back against Sabo’s shut door. The first part of this spell work might have just been and incantation, but it was a 20 min long one in a mix of Elvish and Swahili. He’d learned it from a medicine man in Iran of all places. He felt for the runes that connect him temporally to Sabo. They gave him a reading of his vitals and let him know if anything dipped above or below where it should be. Satisfied that everything was going smoothly, he headed for the stairs. Starting down to the first floor he mentally went over what he’d need for the potions and compared them to his current stock of ingredients. The general headache reliever he still had plenty made up of to last them until recovery was over, The Sleeper he had all the ingredients for and would just need to brew it, but the Balancer might be an issue. Pausing on the landing a few steps from the ground floor he turned and opened to door to his left.

The earthy scent of vegetation and the slightly sour smell of preserved flesh curled out to meet his as the rune line keeping scent locking in his potion room was broken. His eyes skipped over the human and creature products, rolled past the potted and dried plants and stopped on the jars full of powders on the farthest wall. The Agrimony jar was empty. Well the jar of the root that he substituted the Agrimony for was empty. The potion called for six heaping scoops of that powder. Harry sighed again and closed the door. Immediately all scent that had drifted out of the room vanished. Turning he headed back up the stairs, through the second floor, where Sabo and Tommy’s rooms were, and up the next stair case to the third floor, where his room was. He pulled off the sleep clothes he was still wearing, letting them drop to the floor on the way to his closet. The root he substituted Agrimony for thankfully grew on along the shores of this island. But he’d have to leave the town and port to find any.

Standing naked before his closet he gazed in at his options. Most of his clothing was what he’d brought over from his world, but he’d found a piece here or there in his travels here that he’d liked well enough the keep and charm the same as his original. Like the pair of light gray leggings he’d just pulled out. Sinfully soft, and sinfully tight, he’d gotten them and a few other pairs on an island that was perpetually stuck at night and specialized is spider silk. The only enchantments he’d add made them tear resistant and repelled dirt and sweat. Next was a loose blue blouse that he’d picked up at a little boutique in Italy a few years back. Three quarter length sleeves cut to look like they’d been rolled up and tiny buttons down the front that where the same shade as the shirt shimmered out at him. This item was charmed the same as the leggings but he’d liked it enough to fire proof it too. Tossing them onto the bed he went to him trunk at the foot. Opening it he shifted through the shoe options and, with a charm to tell him the day’s weather, he pulled out a pair of soft, brown leather flats.

The island he settled on was one for the few in the New World to have all 4 seasons. Currently they were in spring, which on this island meant slowly rising temperatures and a lot of rain. They hadn’t had more than a light drizzle in the past week so it was possible that they were shifting into summer soon. With another glance at the temp he forwent a cardigan and reached for the outfit he’d selected. Sliding into the leggings he shivered at the feel of the cool silk sliding up his bare skin. The blouse followed, flowing over him to stop mid-thigh and he shook his shoulders to make the v cut lay flat. He grabbed up his hair brush and drew his hair up into a high pony as he stepped into his flats. Tucking a few loose strands behind his ears he headed over to his door. A large mirror hung on the back and he took in the image reflected back at him. The outfit itself was rather feminine and his slight build did nothing to help the image of a slightly flat chested woman blinking back at him.

Smirking to himself he opened the door and headed back down the stairs. His style had been heavily influenced by the gypsy trope he’d traveled with right after the last of the funerals from the Final Battle, but he didn’t mind. He’d spent all of his early childhood, preteen and teenage years living only to the ideals and expectations of the people around him. He’d let them tell him what to wear, what to study, who to hang around and how to live. It hadn’t been until he’d meet up with the caravan that he’d really taken a look at what HE wanted for his life. He stopped on the landing again and popped into the potion room long enough to grab the basket and tools he used to collect ingredients, before continuing to the ground floor.

Once he’d figured out what he wanted he refused to let other people’s opinions sway him. He was going where he wanted, dress how he wanted and fuck who he wanted. A small smile came across his face as he thought of Alastair. He’d been older Scottish man in charge of the caravan and Harry’s first gay crush. And his first sexual experience. Thoughts of Alastair suddenly shifted to thoughts of the blond man from this morning. He paused in front of the door as the man’s eyes drifted back into his thoughts. He shivered again as he remembered the intensity of the gaze, the Other that had peeked out at him. As a rule, he didn’t fuck those who had Secondary creatures. Sure he’d hang out and be friends with them, but one to many times of them losing control and trying to claim him made him swear them off as sexual partners. But, something about that man.

Harry shook the thought off sharply. He hadn’t had sex in a while that was all. Once Sabo had finished his treatments he’d leave the bar to Tommy and take a vacation, head over to a party island and find someone to scratch an itch with. If he was lucky he’d run into that handsome red-head and his first mate again. Nodding to himself he headed out to door and vowing to put all thoughts of the blond man away, let the door click shut behind him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So no Marco this chapter, but that's just the way it flowed apparently.  
>  The flower mentioned here is Agrimony which according to Witchipedia "Agrimony is useful for spell work for those who need to explore their true feelings and to help balance the emotions applied to a situation." It's also good to help build a psychic shields so for a potion do help with retrieving and excepting memories I thought it was appropriate.


End file.
